“Lady,” he added with a hint of glee, “you have no path except to accept my aid in exchange for those instruments of power which I covet.”

“You’re wrong,” retorted Linden. “I can always refuse. In fact, that’s my only sane path, since you still haven’t given me a reason to believe you. Your whole attitude is inherently dishonest. Why should I just trust you?”

He smirked through his whiskers. “And must I therefore trust you? Must I convey you to your son in the fond hope that only then will you honor your own word? Lady, no. I have witnessed the extent of your folly. I will not assume that you are honorable merely because you wish me to do so.”

His argument stopped Linden: she could not imagine a way to counter it. If she had been in his place, would she have trusted a person who had violated the essence of Law in order to drag Covenant out of his place in the Arch of Time? She wanted to believe that she would have found room in her heart for any parent who sought to save a child; that she would not have been as self-absorbed and uncaring as the Harrow. But she had already demonstrated that she was capable of defying every consequence in order to get what she wanted. She remained ready to take any risk for Jeremiah’s sake; but she could not pretend that she was morally superior to the Harrow. His distrust was as valid as hers; as entirely justified.

Esmer had once said, That which appears evil need not have been so from the beginning, and need not remain so until the end. She wanted to say the same about herself, but she knew that the Harrow would only laugh.

“Then think of something,” she murmured weakly. “We’re at an impasse. Find a way out.”

Surely she could not surrender Covenant’s ring and her Staff without some assurance—?

“Lady,” he answered without hesitation, “that I speak sooth is confirmed by who and what I am. The word of any Insequent is as precious as wealth. We do not speak falsehood. It demeans knowledge, which we revere. Condoning lies, I would cease to be who I am.